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a terrible painter, a dreamer, a rebel , a feminist and a self certified bisexual Witch. Who is always trying to visualize whats on the other side of the canvas she paints,just another human- Living alive Life. Now also a green tea addict.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015

On first October we
turned four, this blog and the blogger. I had an aggressive desire to write on
that very night and shout out we are four years old. But my blogpost on 30th
of previous month must explain why there was no such celebratory post.

Today I have no story
to tell or complain to rant about nor experiments in art and cooking to flaunt.
I am no longer possessed by the feverish muse that had been playing with my
mind a week back. Yet I am in a
celebratory mood, I am treading on the fine balance of nostalgia and subtle
pathos. I have attained wisdom of fulfillment.

When my Facebook
profile picture suddenly changes into a fanart of two men in wedding kimono and my caption is a link to a
thirty chapter long story published in a site called Fanfiction.net many are
bound to question the special occasion in my life, trust my closest friends to be the
last to twitch a brow. No, the ‘Pujos’ I hate this accent! So let’s re-frame it,
the Puja season is not far from us. But my nostalgia and sublime pathos do not
come from the hopes of merriment and drowning of the goddess a month from now.

Today I feel
accomplished and thrice placed and twice removed from anxiety bouts. These
feelings are not a result of reading Huffington Post’s Good Living section
every day or now off limit The New Yorker’s humour pieces. It is simply because
I have put the words The End to a fanfiction story I was writing for over a
year now. Today I feel like an established author who has done a magnificent
work on her third novel.

So with 434 reviews in
my kitty I published the last chapter on my most ambitious work today in the
evening. In my happiness I inform of this great achievement to my near and dear
ones. My once walking mate has finally started reading the story now that there
is a, the end at last. My soul sister fell from the sky when I informed her. I
still wonder how she eradicated those long chats about each new bad and
supportive review I had informed her about. My soon to be official boss/buddy
should be glad right now, I feel he must have gotten tired with my proud rants
and snaps of chapter-view graphs I sent him. My parents are clueless bunch when
it comes to fanfiction, in a way I am sad, I have two humans less to talk out.

Like this blog, my
fanfiction is one of my prized loves. Each new story and series I drop there
comes out with great care and absolute concentration. With great adoration and
madness I pick up characters I love and pair them up from a story I can’t have
enough despite it running for two decades. In reviews I get accused of being
fangirl who is blinded by rainbow colours, my grammar is scrutinized by grammar
nazi who may not have penned a single one-shot in the site. I get weird psycho
private messages from random reader who fixed her marriage up after reading my
story.

So in this alternate
universe of free flowing narratives I found my narcotics effect. It’s an
addiction where you want to play fate to the characters or stories which can
never be yours in reality until and unless you are E L James and write an
erotic fanfiction of Twilight which even fanfiction.net had to throw out
because you were over detailed and descriptive. Still we write to make
ourselves and others happy and giddy in the gut.

But there is always a
Cheshire Cat in the family. Sadly the ghost of this feline inhabits in my elder
sister. In my excitement with a pompous mind I text her about my latest
achievement. She asks me to send it to publishing house, to which I reply I
can’t because it’s a fanfiction, about two men I married off in another
Alternate Universe. The question in return comes as “Labh ki etho Likhe?”-
What’s the point of writing it?

My mind rushes back to
my class on O’Neil’s drama Desire Under the Elms, my professor said only
mother’s love is the most selfless. But here I was, my love for my fanfiction
is selfless, it’s only for satisfaction of my soul and spreading large scale
happiness that I write. But to the Cheshire Cat sitting in cornfield and eating
Hershey’s cupcake, this argument is like confused Alice’s question.

In my timid voice I quote from my
fanfiction story, ‘love was not only blind, but deaf and dumb too’. That is the only answer I have on why I write this blog and fanfiction. Its plain old school love.

Simply Witchy Me

All I can describe myself is, I am a Tame Less Tempest, Aim-Less Learner, never aware of what I want.
Born Blank, Raised Ordinary, Lived Ignorant, BUT CATCHING UP my life is a celebration of Books, Friendship, Solitude, Observation, Education and Curiosity.
My life is a toast to living without guilt"- hence I am still Clue Less of what I want.